


I Love It, You Hate(d) It

by Very_Anxious_Bean



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parenting, Comforting Sleep | Remy Sanders, Couch Cuddles, Dr. Emile Picani Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healthy Relationships, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Married Characters, Married Couple, Married Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Men Crying, Past Child Abuse, Past Forced Marriage, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 11:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20814014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Very_Anxious_Bean/pseuds/Very_Anxious_Bean
Summary: Surprisingly, Emile hates... pretty much everything about his looks. Remy doesn't know why and wants to get an answer.Remy wasnotexpecting the answer he got.





	I Love It, You Hate(d) It

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE TAGS, PLEASE. I don't want to trigger someone.

Remy noticed it. He noticed how Emile was on edge ever since the couple woke up, and only one thing was gnawing at him. 

Remy didn't know why Emile was on edge. He didn't know why his husband was upset. 

The man Remy married six years ago, when they were in their mid-twenties, hasn't let him know what upset him. 

Emile was usually a more upbeat person, making cartoon references and smiling when things weren't too serious. He was incredibly loving and caring, and he always helped people when he could. 

He was also a badass, but we're going to pretend Remy doesn't blush over that. 

Emile was being more quiet, more introverted. His smiles weren't as genuine and whenever he saw a reflection of himself, he looked at it with distaste, thinking Remy couldn't see it. 

Well, Remy could see it. And he didn't like that look in Emile's eyes. 

"Hey, babe." Remy hugged Emile from behind. "You good?"

"Yeah," Emile said. He didn't look up from his book about psychology. 

Remy cocked his head, jaw resting on Emile's shoulder. "Are- are you sure?" 

"Of course." Emile turned his head and smiled at Remy. "I'm okay." 

"You know that you can tell me anything, right?" Remy read a small paragraph from Emile's book. 

Emile nodded, resting his head against Remy's. He turned the page. 

After a few minutes, Remy and Emile moved to the sofa. Remy leaned against the arm of the furniture and let Emile lean his back against his chest. 

Emile read the book and Remy scrolled through his Instagram. Twenty minutes later, Remy noticed that Emile hasn't flipped page 107 for a good while. 

"Babe?" 

Emile looked away from his book, frowning. "Yeah?" 

"You haven't flipped the page for some time," Remy murmured. 

"... Right." 

Remy frowned. "Em, please tell me what's wrong?" 

"Nothing, I'm fine-"

"I know that's a lie-" 

"I said I'm fine-"

"_Emile_."

"_Remy_." 

"I just want to know what's wrong!" 

"I said I'm okay, Remington."

Remy paused at that, taking a deep breath. Emile, who had moved away from him a bit, hardly ever called him that. Remy hates the name. 

Emile's eyes widened. "Oh my god- I'm sorry, Remy."

Remy inhaled. "It's okay, you didn't mean it." 

"No, it's not okay!" Emile grit his teeth. "You've told me not to call you that and I did-"

Remy gently took Emile's hands. "Look at me?"

Emile looked up. 

"You didn't mean it. It slipped out and you apologised. I forgive you." 

Emile sighed. "I'm sorry- I've been on edge." 

"I know," Remy said. "It's nearly your birthday, babe, you shouldn't be so stressed. You've got work off for a few days and you can relax for once." 

Emile set his book down and then laid on Remy again, this time burying his face into his husband's neck. "It's nearly my birthday," he repeated quietly. 

"Yeah, it is." Remy thought about the past few years he's known Emile, and he's been off every time it was nearly his birthday. 

"I wanted to try to make this year better than the rest," Remy hummed. "I know every birthday isn't a good time for you, and I don't know why, but I wanted to make this year... okay? Decent? I don't know, I just wanted it to be better." 

Remy could feel Emile take a shaky breath and blink rapidly while he shook. 

"I just-" Emile cleared his throat. "I need to tell you sometime, might as well be now." 

Remy raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to, honey." 

"You should know. I should've told you before we got married-"

"What? Why?"

"Because you might want to divorce me," Emile said meekly. 

Remy sat up more. "I would _never_ want to divorce you! I mean, unless you murdered someone. Then I'd report you to the police."

"I haven't killed someone."

"Then you should have no worries." Remy kissed the crown of Emile's head. 

Emile pursed his lips, sighing though his nose. 

The two were silent for a while (an hour) before Emile muttered something into Remy's collarbone. 

"... What?" 

"My mother was raped and had to keep me." 

Remy blinked. 

"She- she was forced to carry me and marry the rapist. Family didn't want anyone to know about it." 

Remy rubbed small circles into Emile's back. 

"So she had me, and... I look exactly like him," Emile forced out. "And- and I hate it, I _really fucking hate it_."

Remy held Emile close, letting him cry into his shoulder. 

"So she- she raised me, with an abusive father and a- alcohol in every room." Emile cleared his throat. "She killed herself when I started school, and left me to- to _him_." 

Remy bit his lip. God, how had he not known about this? 

"That went about as well as you'd think," Emile muttered. He shook, letting more tears fall. "I- I looked _just like him_, and you- you're married to m- me. I don't... I don't know why, and I might- I might end up being like him with our- our kid-" Emile choked on a sob. 

"No, you'll never be like him," Remy said firmly. "You don't drink, you're always asking if something like a hug's okay, and you'd _never_ hurt somebody on purpose." 

"But- but what if I- I do?" 

"You won't."

"I-" Emile sobbed- "I still look like him." 

Remy shook his head. "No. You look like my loving, caring husband. A wonderful man named Emile that loves people dearly. You have eyes that look like the sweetest chocolate, and skin that's tanned beautifully; your freckles look like the sprinkles that you and Patton put on cupcakes together and lips that are fucking amazing to kiss-"

"Remy!" Emile blushed. 

Remy grinned. "And your hair- god_damn_ that hair. That fluff and softness can make Roman and his 42 bottles of hair care shit jealous." 

Emile didn't say anything, looking less upset but not completely not-upset. 

"You're Emile Salem-Picani, a helpful man that cares for everyone. You're amazing and your own person, not a copy of someone else." 

"But-" 

"It's like saying that sheep are clouds because they look the same, or each cloud must be the exact same since they look alike," Remy said. 

"... True." 

Remy gave a crooked smile, often mistaken as a smirk. "I'll be here for you, no matter what. Guess why."

Emile was more relaxed. "I don't know. Why?" 

"It's because I love you. I married you for a reason, darling." 

Emile snorted. "I love you too, coffee-driven kid." 

"I- I'm older than you?" 

Emile didn't respond, simply cuddling with Remy on the sofa. 

Who knew that Remy, a sassy coffee drinker, could be a saviour? 

Remy knew. He just had to give up the coffee, sass, and sarcasm. He hates being sincere a lot but it helped others sometimes. 

Well, people have to be sincere once in a while.


End file.
